


Free Carol Imagines

by Yuo



Category: Orange is the New Black
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-08-22
Updated: 2018-10-04
Packaged: 2019-07-01 03:59:36
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 3,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15766155
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yuo/pseuds/Yuo
Summary: A collection of filled Tumblr requests/imagines about Carol's life after being released from prison.





	1. Adjusting

**Author's Note:**

> Visit me at caroldenningg.tumblr.com for requests.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: Ok Carol gets a job and she's struggling cus like she's been in prison since she was a teen can you imagine frustrated Carol.

After countless rejections, failed interviews, and a very painful lack of call-backs, she had finally done it. Carol had secured a job. It was the most menial, mind-numbingly boring office job in existence, but at least it was something.

It felt alien to her. Being in an environment where control and power wasn’t contingent on survival. Filling her time with spreadsheets and clerical work instead of card games and playing puppet master. The responsibility grew too much at times. There were only two things one had to do in prison: manage your safety and sit around waiting for time to pass. Now she had a life to manage.

A life filled with deadlines, stress, and endless tasks. Being a free citizen was a lot to manage, even if she was allowed to smoke a cigarette any time she wanted.

Her old prison ways crept up on her. Refusing to sit with her back facing the break room door, watching her coworkers obsessively in fear they were conspiring against her. Of course, none of them ever did. As much as she loved being free, there was an equally large part of her that missed the excitement, the struggle, the power and the drama. She missed the fear, the adrenaline. She missed being in charge.

You would have long talks at night, usually over a cigarette, sitting on the porch of the house you two shared. Coming home from a day and work stressed and drained, she had wordlessly entered the house and went immediately to have a smoke, waiting for you to join her.

“You ok?” you ask, lighting your cigarette.

She took a deep drag and exhaled slowly, watching the smoke spiral out into the fresh evening air. “Fuck it. I miss prison. I mean I obviously don’t ever, ever want to go back to that hell, but I still miss it.” She frowned. “I don’t fit in here. I don’t know if I’m even wired to live in the outside world.”

“Carol,” you started, in a sympathetic tone.

“Don’t. You don’t know what it’s like. I have no idea how to function here. I have no idea how YOU function here.” She brought her cigarette to her lips, closing her eyes as she inhaled. “I can’t shake the nerves, you know? Always looking over my shoulder, watching my back. Shit, I feel like I’m under attack all the time. And no one is attacking me.”

You patted her back sympathetically. “You’ll get through it, Carol. You always do.”


	2. Vacation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: Will you do more of the free Carol stuff? Like the job one?

Carol reached for your phone, squinting at the screen from behind her glasses. “Why do they make the little buttons so tiny?”

You laughed. “You need some help?”

“I got it,” she snapped. Journey’s Don’t Stop Believin’ blared as you pulled onto the highway.

You snorted at her choice in music. “You realize there’s nearly four decades worth of hit songs you’ve never even listened to, right?”

“Shh. Let me experience nostalgia in peace,” said Carol.  
——-  
As soon as you parked the car in front of the cottage, Carol made a beeline for the beach. You followed her as she kicked off her shoes and ran into the water. “Wow,” she breathed, as the tide washed over her feet. “It’s even bigger than I remember”. She gazed out into the endless ocean horizon.

You took her hand. “Could you ever even imagine that one day we would take actual romantic long walks on the beach?” You delighted in watching Carol’s face light up with a smile.

“Definitely not,” she laughed.   
—-  
The beeping of the microwave caused you to glance up from your book. Carol was making lunch. “The entire bounty of seafood the Atlantic Ocean has to offer is at your fingertips and you’re eating Cup O Noodles?”

“Oh, great idea!” said Carol, stirring her ramen. “I’ll throw some shrimps in there.”

“Gross!” you giggled.

——

You sat on the beach together watching the sunset, hardly a soul in sight. Carol lit a cigarette, taking a deep drag before offering it to you. She closed her eyes and breathed in the salty ocean air before laughing out loud, seemingly at nothing.

“What?” you asked.

She shook her head. “I’m just happy. I got out. I have you." She smiled. "There's nowhere to go but up."


	3. Television

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous: Free Carol imagine where Carol watches modern tv with her girlfriend?

“You ready?” asked Carol cheerfully, carrying two bowls of ice cream into the room. You looked up from your book.

“Ready for what?”

“You were going to show me that TV program you like. Parks and Recreation?”

“Oh yeah,” you said. “Just let me finish this page.”

“Here, I can find it,” said Carol, reaching for the remote. “What channel is it on?”

“No channel,” you replied. “It’s on Netflix.”

“Netflix?” inquired Carol.

“Yeah. You can watch any episode you want, any time. Let me show you,” you gently tugged the remote from her. “See, all the shows you watch end up here.” You scrolled through the list, reading the titles aloud. “The Office, Parks and Rec, Orange is the New Black, oh, you might like that one.”

“Does it have Happy Days? Charlie’s Angels? Three’s Company?”

You laughed. “Sorry, Carol. I don’t think so.”

You started playing one of your favorite episodes. “Why’s the camera all shaky?” asked Carol.

“They film it to look like a documentary,” you explain.

“It’s a documentary? I thought you said it was a sitcom.”

“No, Carol, it’s called a mockumentary. It’s filmed like a documentary, but is not actually a documentary.”

Carol scoffed. “What’s the point of that?”

“What? It’s funny! Just keep watching,” you said, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her close. Fortunately Carol was able to relax and get into the show. You saw her laugh sharply a few times, delighting at the sight of her smile.

As the show ended, Carol turned to you, pressing a short kiss to your lips. “I like modern TV,” she laughed.


	4. Change

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous said   
> Free Carol doing free things like going shopping or maybe going on vacation??? While also struggling with being free and not being used it it

Your grocery budget had been continually ignored since Carol joined you in freedom on the outside. The extra money was well worth it - she loved being able to choose and select her own food at will, and you loved the excitement that lit up her face whenever you went to the store. A staggering percentage of the cart was filled with candy - you figured a chat about healthy eating habits was in the future, but for now, you let her make up for lost time.

Clothes shopping was another story. After a very long griping session about how the times had changed (and how boring everyone’s hair looked now), she had settled on a mix of new and thrift store clothes. From the handful of pictures of her you had seen that were taken before her incarceration, you could tell that this was how she used to dress. Lots of plaid and flannel shirts, rolled up jeans, a sturdy pair of boots. She rarely wore makeup, and when she did, it wasn’t much. Her hair had a more uniform look now that she had a wide range of products at her disposal, but overall she was much less feminine than you had anticipated.

The vast amount of choices overwhelmed her at times, as was to be expected. Job hunting was the most difficult - she could never tell just where she’d fit in, or if she’d be judged harshly for her criminal record. Some days she longed to return to the world where she didn’t have to worry about money or deadlines or what to wear to a job interview. Carol was vastly talented at running a prison and manipulating the delicate social games that powered it. But there was no equivalent on the outside.

She was good at two things, she once told you: scaring people and manipulating them. Neither talent opened up too many job prospects. There was a lot she had to learn, like how to handle disputes with HR rather than with a shiv to the back. Then there was the matter of her technological ineptitude - computers, she felt, were vastly too complicated.

  
But with each other’s help, you hoped that one day both of you would achieve the normal life you’d always wanted.


	5. Drunk

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hennyxrussell asked:
> 
> Ok can you do like a drunk Carol at a bar or something and shes like the life of the party and maybe she like accidentally comes out to everyone and blurts out that she's gay or something idk idk

 

Carol, you had discovered after she had rejoined you on the outside, had a penchant for the adult side of life. Drinking, smoking, even gambling. You realized it was because she never had a chance to partake in such activities before her incarceration, and you supposed she felt a certain urge to make up for lost time. 

 

The thought first crossed your mind as she poured wine into two identical glasses and brought them over to the kitchen table. “You’ve never been to a bar, have you?” you asked, accepting the wine from her. She tilted her glass from side to side, watching the deeply colored ruby liquid swirl around. She took a small sip. 

 

“No, I guess I haven’t,” shrugged Carol. 

 

“Would you like to?”

 

“Sure,” she said, placing the glass delicately back on the table. “If you know of a good place. And not a gay bar,” she folded her arms. 

 

You laughed. “Not a gay bar. Got it.”

 

\-----

 

You had selected a moderately trendy establishment on the quieter side of town, knowing Carol’s strong hatred for noisy, large crowds. She insisted on wearing her oversized flannel shirt and boots, although you had convinced her to leave her hair straight and down instead of combing the front into the usual vintage roll. 

 

“Oh, it’s not too crowded,” she remarked as the pair of you entered, and you smiled to yourself. “I was worried it’d be crowded.” 

 

After pondering the selection for quite some time, Carol ordered a strawberry daiquiri, and you had to make the effort not to laugh out loud at her girly drink selection. “What?” she asked defensively. “I like sweet things,” she grumbled. You ordered a beer for yourself.

 

Carol had a good time reminiscing about her old friends in prison and wondering what they were up to now over your first drink. Of course, as in most prisons, Carol wasn’t allowed to visit her old pals, seeing as she was so recently released. She slurped down the rest of her daiquiri as you discussed the lack of access to news in prison. “Shit, it was a solid week before we knew about 9-11,” she said. “It was fuckin’ weird. They kept us on lockdown for like, three days.” She sighed. “Should we order more drinks?” 

 

This time, she ordered an old fashioned. Carol coughed loudly as she swallowed the first sip. “Little stronger than your daiquiri, huh? Or that terrible prison hooch.”

 

“Hey, my hooch wasn’t terrible!” complained Carol. 

 

The conversation turned to Burt Reynolds, as was natural with a tipsy Carol. 

 

“No, no no,” she stated firmly. “That’s all wrong. Gator came out before Smokey and the Bandit, not after.”

 

“No,” you argued, “Gator came out in ‘77. Smokey came out in ‘76.”

 

“What are you talking about?” demanded Carol. “Smokey came out in ‘77, not Gator! Which makes sense, because Gator is the sequel to White Lightning, so it would make sense that they would come out as close as possible to each other,” she rambled, folding her arms. 

 

“Let me look it up,” you said, patting down your pockets to find your phone.    
  


“You don’t need to look it up, I’m right!” argued Carol. 

 

“I think I left my phone in the car,” you said, standing up. “I’ll be right there.”

 

“I’m still right!” called Carol after you, but you ignored her. 

 

You had retrieved your phone from where it had fallen between the seats and were on the way back inside when you spotted a familiar face. “Lauren?”

 

“[Y/N]!” she exclaimed, rushing over. “I haven’t seen you since college!” You stopped and chatted for a few minutes. “Rob and I just got engaged,” she said proudly, holding out her hand to display the ring. “Are you seeing anyone?”

 

“Yes!” you said, remembering with a start that Carol was waiting for you. “Come on, she’s just inside.” 

 

Carol had gotten significantly drunker in the fifteen minutes you had been away. “Carol,” you said, leading her over, “this is Lauren. Remember, I was telling you about her? Lauren, this is my girlfriend, Carol.”   
  


“Oh my gosh, hi, how are you?” shouted Carol, as if yearning to be heard over a nonexistent noise.

 

“It’s good to meet you,” laughed Lauren. “Well, I should let you two get back to it. I’m actually meeting another friend here tonight. It was great to see you!” she waved goodbye. 

 

“I have- I have- I have something to tell you,” slurred Carol. 

 

“Jesus, how drunk are you?”

 

“S’not my fault,” she grumbled. “You left me here all alone, and I got bored, so, um, I had to drink more.” You giggled at her poor logic. “I have to tell you something.”

“What do you have to tell me?”

 

“It’s - okay, it’s weird, okay? Cause I didn’t wanna, uh, tell you before cause, I don’t know, I guess I was just-”

 

“Spit it out, Carol.”

 

She grinned sleepily. “I’m gay, okay? And I know you kept asking before, and, um, I didn’t tell you cause-”

 

“I know,” you said plainly. 

 

“What? You-you know? But I never told you.” 

 

“I could tell,” you replied. Too intoxicated to comprehend the complexities of gaydar, Carol merely shook her head.  “Come on, I think it’s time to get you home.”

 

“You should drive,” she slurred, struggling to stand up. 

 

“Uh, yeah. No kidding.” You offered your arm for support and she took it, wobbling slightly on unsteady feet. 

 

She leaned over. “I’m a lesbian,” she whispered in your ear, then dissolved into a fit of drunken laughter. You rolled your eyes and guided her to the door. Clutching you desperately, Carol giggled even harder. “I’m a dyke!” she shouted belligerently, turning heads on the sidewalk. Feeling the eyes of the passerby rooted on you both, you opened the door and managed to get her inside the car. 

 

You started the engine. “Don’t you dare puke in here, Carol.”


	6. Hungover

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: your last request of drunk, free!carol was honestly so sweet and so wonderful and i’d love a part of two of trying to get her back in the house and an accompanying morning hangover? i just can’t get enough of this

“Oh my god, can we turn some music on!?” exclaimed Carol as soon as you had pulled into traffic, digging around in your purse to find your cell phone. She squinted at the bright screen in the darkness, holding the phone very close to her face. “Here, I can’t do it. Will you do it?” **  
**

“Carol, I’m driving!” you cried. But, if only so she would cease her humming, you pulled up the playlist Carol had created at the next red light.

“Oh! Ah, I love this song, how did you know?”

“It’s your playlist, dumbass.”

——

Getting her inside and to bed was proving to be more difficult than you’d imagined. Spotting your neighbor on a late-night walk with his dog, you kept Carol distracted for a few more moments inside the car as he passed, to save yourself (and Carol, once she’d sobered up) the embarrassment of how she would greet him.

Carol seemed especially giggly as you led her to the front door. She sat down on the bench in the foyer and hummed expectantly at you, glancing at her boots. “What, you can’t even take your own shoes off?” you asked.

“No…” shrugged Carol. She kicked her feet like a little kid on a swing set. “Please?”

Sighing, you undid the laces, pulling the boots off and helping her to her feet. “I liked going to the bar,” she tittered.

“Yeah, well I’m tempted to say we can’t go again, based on how wasted you are right now.” You supported most of her weight as she climbed the stairs.

“I didn’t mean to,” she said sweetly. “Oh, are you mad at me? Oh, don’t be mad at me!” Carol pouted.

You sighed. “Come on, let’s get you to bed.” Slowly, and somewhat incapably, she pulled off her clothes, kicking them into a messy pile beside the mattress. You sat on the edge of the bed as she settled in under the covers, reading through your emails on your phone. Carol set her glasses on the nightstand and reached over to poke you in the back.

“You’re pretty,” she grinned.

“You need to sleep, Carol.”

“Give me a kiss?”

“Let me brush my teeth first,” you shrugged, walking into the ensuite and shutting the door behind you. You took your time brushing your teeth and even extended the effort for a prolonged flossing session.

A smug expression fell across your face as you re-emerged into the bedroom and found Carol in the state you were exactly hoping she’d be in: sound asleep.

—–

You opened the curtains, the bright morning sunlight falling in beams along the bedspread. Carol covered her eyes and groaned. “I think I need to go to the hospital.”

“You’re hungover, silly.”

“I’m serious,” grumbled Carol. “I think I’m dying. Can you close those fucking blinds?” You tilted them downwards so the light was no longer in her eyes.

“Here, drink some water.” You offered her a glass from your nightstand. She took a measly sip, smacking her lips at the taste in her mouth and handed the glass back. “You need to drink more then that, Carol.”

“What’s wrong with me?” she moaned.

“Once you’re over 30, it just gets harder and harder,” you said wistfully. “Here, I’ll cook you a nice breakfast. Pancakes or something. It’ll get your blood sugar up.”

“I never wanna drink again,” whined Carol. You chuckled in the doorway. It was a lie and you both knew it.


	7. New Friend

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Anonymous asked: free Carol and her girlfriend get a dog?

“What do you think, is it that one?” you nodded at the dog Carol was sitting with. 

 

“Definitely,” she grinned. “He’s so sweet! Aww, look!” The dog, a cheery yellow lab, had rolled over and was begging Carol for a tummy rub. 

 

“I’ll get the paperwork started,” you smiled. 

 

\-----

 

Carol couldn’t sit still the entire car ride home - twisting around in her seat every thirty seconds to peer over her shoulder at the carrier in the backseat. “Who’s a good boy?” she would croon, holding her hand up to the bars. 

 

“Carol, will you calm down?” you asked, focusing on the road. “You’re more excited than he is!” 

 

“I always wanted a dog!” she exclaimed. “But  _ Debbie _ was allergic.”

 

“Don’t they have that puppy training program in prison?” you inquired, urging to get Carol’s mind off of Debbie. 

 

“For a few months, yeah. But then someone trained theirs to attack people, and it got shut down. Can’t have nice things in prison,” she frowned. 

 

“You know, for a while there, I was sure you were a cat person,” you laughed. 

 

Carol shook her head. “Uh-uh. I don’t like how they  _ stare  _ at you like that. It’s creepy.”

 

“It’s not creepy! It’s a sign of affection.”

 

“We’re not also getting a cat.”

 

“Fine.”

 

\-----

 

The new dog had settled in quickly, already eager to explore his new surroundings. But he couldn’t stay the new dog forever. “What do you want to call him?” you asked Carol. 

 

“What about Max?”

 

“Max? Really?”

 

“What’s wrong with it?” she shrugged. 

“Come on, that’s like the most common dog name ever. At least try to be creative.”

 

“Fine. How about...Burt?” 

 

“Like Burt Reynolds? No!” you exclaimed. 

 

“What?” pouted Carol. 

 

“You are not naming our first and only dog after Burt Reynolds, Carol.” 

 

“Can we name him…” Carol stalled to think, “Lewis?”

 

“Ok, that one’s not half bad,” you nodded. “Lewis. It fits. Oh-” you paused, then gave a huge sigh. “Lewis....” you began through gritted teeth, “as in Burt Reynolds’ character in Deliverance?”

 

Carol cackled. “Please? Please can we name him Lewis?” she begged. 

 

“Fine,” you groaned.

 

\----

 

Lewis and Carol had bonded quickly over their many long walks. “He keeps me company,” she had said to you once. “You know, I can’t stand being alone. I mean, in prison, there’s always, always other people. You’re never alone!” 

 

“You get used to those things,” you reminisced. 

 

“Mmm-hmm. Shit, I can’t even sleep with the lights off.” You gave a small smile at that, knowing Carol’s fondness for nightlights. 

 

“You’ll adjust,” you soothed. 

 

She reached down to pet Lewis. “And he’ll help me get there.”


End file.
